


Auld Lang Syne

by learningthetrees



Category: Slow West (2015)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Presents, F/M, Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-11 19:30:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9007351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/learningthetrees/pseuds/learningthetrees
Summary: It had been less than a year since they’d created this life together, and in that time, Silas had learned that life could mean more than making it to the next day. Ever since he’d started to think of the little cabin as home, he had something to look forward to, something to come home to.





	

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a while since I've posted anything, so here's my gift to you! Merry Christmas & happy holidays :)

Snow lay heavy and thick over the valley, the sun glittering across the icy surface. The cold was biting, soaking through Silas’s coat and chapping his face. He caught sight of a tendril of smoke rising from the little cabin, and the thought of a warm fire spurred him to walk faster, pushing through the knee-high drifts with gusto.

He glanced down at the package in his hand. It was simple, unadorned — wrapped in paper and twine and stamped with a notice from the post office. Not for the first time, Silas wondered if it was enough, and the answer he came back to was no. Of course it wasn’t. It felt so small and insignificant — as if it could begin to encompass what he wanted to say.

He reached the door of the cabin and paused for a moment. From inside, he could hear the voices of the children. Although he couldn’t make out what they were saying, there was a joyousness to the sound. Then a peal of Rose’s laughter cut through the din, and that alone was enough to ease some of the cold. Gripping the parcel tighter, Silas pushed open the door.

A wave of “Papa!” went up at the same time that a wall of warmth wafted over him. Silas was mobbed by two blonde children around his ankles, clamoring for his attention. He lifted Jan up around the middle, flipping him upside down to a squeal of surprise that petered out into laughter. He set the boy down, only for Eva to tug on his leg and announce that it was her turn. Silas glanced up and met Rose’s eye from where she sat by the stove, and the look she gave him seemed to say he should have known better. And he should have.

He sighed and managed to scoop Eva up as well, to her great delight. Once she was firmly back on the floor, both children scurried off, whooping and laughing and nearly tripping over their feet.

Silas stamped the snow from his boots and started across the room toward Rose. Perhaps the apprehension showed on his face, because she creased her brow in concern as he approached. “What is it?” she asked.

“I — uh…I just —” He couldn’t quite find the right words, so instead he just proffered the package. She glanced down at it, then back up at him.

“Silas, what—?”

“It’s —” Why was it so hard for him to say? “Merry Christmas, Rose.”

Her eyes were wide as she reached out and took the gift from him. She unwrapped the paper slowly and carefully, as if she was afraid to tear it. As the paper fell away, the book below was revealed — a dark green cloth cover engraved with a Celtic knot. Rose turned it over, holding it delicately as if it were a precious artifact.

“‘Castle Richmond,’” she said, reading aloud the gold lettering on the spine. She leafed through the pages, and as Silas watched her face for any indication, he noticed her eyes growing misty.

“It’s wrong, isn’t it?” he asked. He had seen it advertised in the newspaper, and the man at the post office had assured him it would be a good gift, but the look on Rose’s face now told him differently. “I shouldn’t have — I’ll just —” He made to take it back, but Rose’s grip tightened on the book and she pulled it out of his reach.

“It’s wonderful,” she said, and when she looked up at him, the tears in her eyes were clear. “It’s perfect. But I don’t have anything for you.”

And Silas could have laughed aloud at this if it weren’t for the fallen look on Rose’s face. She thought she’d given him nothing?

He knelt beside her. “Rose,” he said, brushing a thumb under her eye. He looked at the room around them, adorned with touches of home and warmth — curtains at the windows, soft quilt on the bed, candles on the table. The children playing on the woven rug, their socks hanging by the stove. The smell of cinnamon hanging in the air, and Rose’s cheeks glowing despite the sadness in her eyes.

It had been less than a year since they’d created this life together, and in that time, Silas had learned that life could mean more than making it to the next day. Ever since he’d started to think of the little cabin as home, he had something to look forward to, something to come home to.

Someone.

“You’ve already given me everything.”

He leaned forward to press a light kiss to her lips. She pulled him closer, and his fingers tangled in her hair.

Later that night, as the children cuddled up on her lap, their eyes drifting shut while the candles burned low, Silas watched Rose turn the pages of _Castle Richmond_ , her eyes bright and a little smile on her lips.

It was everything he never knew he'd wanted.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, I'm over at [ask-learningthetrees.tumblr.com](http://ask-learningthetrees.tumblr.com/). Come ask me things, request fics, or just say hi!


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